


Fortunate Son & Wolf's Call: Origins ~ A Bond formed on a Misty Street

by TenhaMouchi



Series: Beowulf x Ms. Fortune (Skullgirls) [1]
Category: Skullgirls (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fighting, Passion, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24709339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenhaMouchi/pseuds/TenhaMouchi
Summary: The question with the previous BeoxFortune story was, how did they meet, what did Beowulf see in Nadia? And how did they meet? Find out here in a request by Hylik.(Plot): After getting her tail handed to her by Cerebella, and being beaten within an inch of her own life; Nadia Fortune seeks the help of the only person who's ever beat Cerebella handily and consistently: the legendary wrestler, Beowulf. Nadia's convinced that he's just another Medici enforcer and that his personality is all one big 'act'. However, what'll happen when she's not only proven wrong, but also is shown true compassion for the first time since the Fishbone Gang died? And what will happen when the five time NMO champ meets a woman who shows him what it means to be in love again? Find out on the origin story of how a famous catgirl thief and a howling wolfman of a wrestler met--and fell in love.Skullgirls is of course, property of Lab 0/Alex Ahad.
Relationships: Beowulf/Ms. Fortune (Skullgirls)
Series: Beowulf x Ms. Fortune (Skullgirls) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786432
Kudos: 11





	Fortunate Son & Wolf's Call: Origins ~ A Bond formed on a Misty Street

The light that enveloped the NMO Arena of New Meridian was nothing short of fantastic. Fluorescent, gleaming, but not overbearing enough to prompt people to wear sunglasses; why would they? They’d miss out on the action. What action? Well, it just so happened that the event tonight was big--perhaps the biggest in the NMO’s history--and it was pulling people from as far as three states over. Tonight, people paid 100$ a ticket to see what would be the biggest comeback fight ever.

Beowulf, the legendary wrestler and warrior. He was the face of the NMO, the reigning champ, and he was making his way out of retirement to pick-up competitive fighting again. His first fight was to be a big one, in fact, he was defending his title! He was to fight against Andy Anvil; Andy being a legendary boxer who was said to have punches that felt like an anvil landing on your face. He was normally in service to one Patricia “Peacock” Watson; however, the cantankerous, cartoon-wielding, anti-skullgirl was currently out of commission after taking on the “Black Dahlia”.

Despite her condition, she gave Andy full blessing to participate in this fight. It was a sold out show too. Beowulf knew how to draw a crowd better than anyone. A man with as much strength, selflessness, notoriety, and pure will was bound to wrangle people in harder than a cane from stage right. Every seat had sold out in the venue, and spectators on the street were watching the match from a gigantic flat screen atop a billboard. On this night, another chapter of Beowulf’s legend would unfold…

***

Atop a nearby balcony stood a woman. That woman was the famous thief and former member of the Fishbone Gang, Nadia Fortune. She was about 5’8, clad in a trenchcoat, with neck length silver hair, dark skin, and a bell necklace run neatly around her neck. In her right hand (or paw as she liked to refer to it) she held a poster depicting a match between Cerebella; the famous circus performer and bodyguard to Lorenzo Medici. Last week, she was featured against a fight with a foreigner known as ‘Raiden’. The match ended in a draw, but many claimed that she’d won..! She stood there, eyeing the building and thinking about her next move.

 _“I’m surprised that girl could hold her own against a man who looked like that, and still have time to chase my tail around…”_ Nadia regarded the girl’s face with a fanged frown, _“That girl beat me until I was covered in bruises. I only managed to get away because of that new technique I learned…”_ Nadia felt her chest with her left palm, _“This Life Gem’s helped me out a lot better than I thought it would. I can handle those Medici punks in about five seconds flat! But that girl…. She’s too damn fast, strong, and knows every single trick that I might throw at her!”_

Nadia shook her head, and looked back in the direction of where her home--Little Innsmouth--was located. _“I have to find out some of that girl’s weak points. If I don’t. It’ll be a permanent catnap for me!”_ The beastkin frowned and thought about her friends, _“I don’t want someone to go tell Yu-Wan and Minette that I kicked the bucket…. And I don’t feel like dying today! So…”_ She stares at the stadium once again, stars in her eyes. _“It’s time to go ask the only man who’s supposedly won a match against that meathead. I remember hearing a while back that Beowulf wiped the floor with her with some sort of big punching attack! This’ll be my golden ticket to finally kicking her ass!”_

Nadia stepped forward a bit, and heard the raucous cheering of a hyped crowd. _“Provided of course, that fight was real and not rigged by the Medicis… It’d be super bad if he turned out to be just another underling to their big ‘ol game.”_ Nadia crouched a bit, and looked for the best spot to land below. _“Well I got news for them… Tonight--”_ With overwhelming strength, Nadia lept from the balcony, _“--it’s Fortune’s time to shine!”_ Performing a somersault midair for style points, she landed on her feet in a nearby alleyway overlooking the entrance to the front door of the NMO Arena. Quietly, she regarded the ‘beefcakes’ they had for guards.

She was a criminal, there was another way in--a way that wouldn’t involve her losing her (already loose) head. She removed a brim hat from her pocket and placed it on her head. Silently, she made her way through the cheering crowd, past the front entrance, and further towards the side of the arena. She knew it was massive, but having to clear almost two miles was a bit excessive… and she thought she was the criminal; how could New Meridian rob taxpayers blind like this? Though, if they were enjoying it, does that mean they really were being robbed? Nadia shook her head and tried to push the thought out of her mind.

Preferring matter, she listened to the sound her feet made on the concrete. A nice little clicking noise made her want to dance again. Come to think of it, this arena reminded her of something--when was the last time she’d gone clubbing? She prided herself on her moves. Amongst the Fishbone Gang, Nadia was the best dancer by a wide-margin. She remembers what ‘boss’ always used to say about her, _“You give that girl a rug; she will slice it into ribbons, dice it into cubes, and then proceed to cut those cubes into nothingness.”_

She got lost in her memories, but wasn’t lost enough to hear the sound of two guards talking across the way. Nadia quickly put her body against the frame of the building and leaned a free ear to listen. Unfortunately, their conversation had ended, and now she could smell the faintly ashtray scent of a cigarette. Using her feline part, she stuck her head around the side to see two burly security guards sitting on boxes. They were smoking and reading what looked to be a lewd magazine… _“Maybe I can take ‘em? They seem kind of like just your regular old Medici goons. They don’t look like they have anything special about ‘em!”_ Nadia put a finger to her lips and looked down, _“But, I also don’t feel like causing a huge frackas out here I also can’t imagine it’s only these two…”_ She bit her lip, _“C’mon, Nadia, think, there’s gotta be something else around here that I can use to get in!”_

She looked back the way she came, and saw two guards had now set up shop there. _“That’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen....”_ Her cat-like reflexes kicked it into gear and her eyes darted about. An italian restaurant, some dude on a motorcycle, the nightline of New Meridian, a drainage pipe leading up the building--that was it! However, it was on the other side of where the security sat. She’d have to be one dense alleycat if she thought she could easily sneak past them. Which is why she instead went with the “moocher” approach. What’s the moocher approach?

Well, it was a technique taught to her by one of her best friends in the Fishbone Gang. Basically, you had to walk with your hands in your pockets and pretend to not notice anyone or anything. You had to look as uninteresting as possible--a real flat character. You didn’t look down; looking down attracts attention because they know that you’re either going through something or are up to something. Therefore, you need to make absolutely sure that you’re doing the real “bystander” type of shtick. And so, she made her way to the pipe. She was quiet, her feet still made noise, but she was quiet. She walked past both of them and they didn’t bat one eye. She found the pipe behind some boxes and proceeded to make her ascent.

 _“All too easy…”_ Taking a moment to limber up, she started at the pipe with her claws. Finding a good grasp was second nature to the feline beastkin, and she barreled up the makeshift ladder. She ditched her hat and trenchcoat when she was halfway up the pipe. _“Don’t look down until the end. Don’t look down until the end. Don’t look down until the end.”_ The words rung in her mind as if she was told them yesterday. Her claws stuck to the pipe better than any flex seal. Finally, she saw part of the roof and hoisted herself onto the structure. The air up here was cold, a bit colder than it was on the balcony, but still manageable.

Quickly her cerulean eyes made out the metal bars extending to the glass dome. Clearing the distance in no time at all, Fortune found herself almost completely engulfed in light. She hissed in surprise. Nonetheless, Nadia scurried along the scaffolding until she found a perfect vantage point. It wasn’t too bright, but it wasn’t too small to see anything--perfect. Her eyes adjusted to the white gleam and she could see two figures below going head to head. The arena was massive; it was more massive than Nadia had originally thought. There must’ve been at least three hundred thousand sat around the large sporting center. All of them--from what she could tell--were cheering, clapping, and some were putting their whole bodies into their admiration.

The smell of popcorn, freshly made hotdogs, and the ever present stench of good bourbon pervaded her nostrils. She could see people with phone cameras snapping photos, children holding up signs that support Beowulf or Andy, and she swore that she saw an older married couple raising their canes together in unison--still cheering with the rest of the crowd. It stunned her to silence…Here around her sat everyday people like her, shouting, cheering, and pouring their hearts out for someone they’d never meet in their lifetime… Nadia couldn’t fathom it. She thought this only existed with small groups of friends--there’s no way this could be real, could it?

The announcer made her think otherwise, “Beowulf has got Andy on the ropes! Can he do it? Can Beowulf keep his title and prove to the fans that he’s still got it!? He’s charging up for another move; watch out, Andy! It’ll be curtains for you if you’re hit by--” Nadia took her attention away from the commentator to see what Beowulf did next. She watched as the burly man made a quick lunge--far too quick for a man of his stature--kneed Andy in the gut, and then lugged him over his shoulder. With a triumphant roar, Beowulf threw Andy upward and jumped after him. While in midair, Beowulf grabbed Andy and hurtled down towards the stage. While he was holding Andy, he spun to increase velocity. Once Andy hit the stage, a huge energy explosion encompassed the ring--Nadia couldn’t see a damn thing…

It took a minute for the smoke to clear, but when it did, Andy was on the ground with his eyes closed. Beowulf stood not far from him and was dusting himself off. Once he finished, he pointed with two hands to the sky and bellowed mightily. The crowd erupted into a cacophony of cheering, chanting, and raving. In almost no time, he’s thrown a microphone by one of the commentators. He delivers a statement, one line that makes the crowd lean in to hear it. “Ladies and gentlemen… The Wulf has returned, and he’s here to stay!“. The crowd was hype before, now it was hysterical. For god’s sake, Nadia could hear _crying._ They had become so loud that Nadia was convinced it might break the windows… She couldn’t understand it.

Why were they cheering for someone like Beowulf? He was loud as hell, with weak catchphrases, and obviously fake strength. He was also a celebrity who was most likely on the Medicis payroll. All those things were things that Nadia most certainly did not like. To her, Beowulf was most likely another run-of-the-mill face whose appearance was made grandiose by a production staff--pathetic! Nadia almost laughed, she knew of one time her gang shutdown a would-be wrestler here… He was all smoke and mirrors; he used drugs to get the upper hand! Well, tough luck for him.

Nadia herself was lucky enough to find a ventilation shaft near the bottom of the metal bar that she’d climbed up. Using a claw, she effortlessly unhinged the vent and jumped inside. It was oddly expansive… Nadia guessed that it was because the ring often got hot during the battling. Still, this was a bit excessive for an air duct system. It wasn’t supposed to be a labyrinth! Fortunately, Nadia learned a thing or two about labyrinths thanks to hours upon hours of playing a famous dungeon-crawler… What was it called again? Star… something… Regardless, Nadia kept going around from duct to duct until she found a light at the end of one. A vent grating peered into the hallway below. Using her technique she had upstairs, Nadia undid the hatch and poked her head out slightly. Her eyes widened, and she smiled in satisfaction.

This definitely was where the wrestlers hung out after matches; the changing room floor. Nadia leapt out of the vent and skulked around. There were no guards in sight; perhaps they were still watching the match? The catgirl slithered along the dimly lit hallways. If there was one thing that was inoffensive about this arena, it was definitely the color scheming. Green was her favorite color, and the walls had a green and yellow simple styled pattern. Her eyes peered at a door near a dead end… Aloud, she said, “Bingo.” Quickly, the beastkin dashes for the door, and passes an adjacent corridor. She sees “BEOWULF” written in large gold letters on the door ahead. Nothing can--

Nadia stops dead in her tracks when she hears the sound of two men talking from her right. She regains herself fast and hides behind some equipment in the dead end. Using more techniques from the gang, she halts her breathing a bit and perks up her ears. She’d heard one of the voices not long ago; Beowulf’s. There was another, it was a bit deeper, and more refined in tone. Fortune guessed it belonged to a Medici employer; no doubt happy that Beowulf had ‘won’. She pokes her head out from her hiding place and sees none other than Andy Anvil, walking alongside Beowulf. The two are in deep conversation. Nadia figures she’ll listen--not like she has a choice…

“All I’m saying is…” The half-anvil-half-man looks down in sadness, “I could’ve at least tried another tactic--you had me figured right from the start old buddy old pal.”

“Hey, hey!” Beowulf put a muscular arm on the boxer’s shoulder, “I could’ve figured out a way to not get hit by that right hook of yours, but only now did I figure it out! It’s ok, Andy, sometimes we gotta get smacked before we can lay the smacketh.”

“That’s very true.” Andy looked up slightly, “But learning shouldn’t be an excuse to be sloppy in the ring--that’s disgraceful!”

“Sloppy in the ring?” Beowulf let out a hearty laugh, “Andy, you had me on the ropes for a good portion of the match! I know I give the right hook credit, but you had a lot of things going for you that I couldn’t hold a candle to! Give yourself some more credit, you’re tough as nails!”

“You think so? I didn’t feel like it…” Andy threw up an arm slackly to accentuate that point.

“Damn straight you were, look at my chest!” Beowulf opened his jacket a bit and pulled his shirt down to reveal a nice set of pecs--covered in blows. “It’s gonna take at _least_ a week for those to go away!”

“I did that?” Andy cupped his chin and let out a little sigh of surprise. “Man… I guess those punching exercises my boss had me do were really something!” He sheepishly scratched his head, “Thanks buddy… I guess I did better than I thought.”

Beowulf laughed again and gave his friend a playful smack, “No problem! Hey, how about after this whole thing we…”

They started to walk towards Beowulf’s room. Nadia was afraid of being seen, and was about to double back when she heard someone else talk. It was a loud, high-pitch, scratchy type of drawl that Nadia had begrudgingly come to know… Had she really come all this way from the hospital? She must’ve because--

“Andy! You blockhead!” Screamed a small, red-haired, half-bionic woman in casual clothing, “You have any idea how much money I had riding on that match!?”

“Boss!” Andy exclaimed as he jumped jubilantly, “You can walk again! Aww thank god! They said you wouldn’t!”

“Of course I can walk numbnuts, what did you think Avian stuck this stupid skeleton in me for nothing!? That was 20k, Andy! 20k!” She threw her arms up for emphasis, “I even took you out to the damn trainyard to work on your hooks!”

“Wait... “ Beowulf’s eyes seemed to almost fall out of his skull, “You _punched_ trains?! That’s incredible, Andy, Peacock, you gotta tell me about this!”

“W-Well you see…” Andy sheepishly rubbed his head with his hand.

“Forget about the _trains!_ ” Peacock flailed her arms in anger, “I just lost a bunch of cash--the hell am I supposed to do!?”

Peacock never failed to make her presence unbearable… Nadia--using this moment of confusion to its fullest--checked the lock on Beowulf’s door to find it ajar… What luck! With blinding speed, she opens the door, closes it, and then hides behind where the door would open. She sits there, and scratches her ear with her hind leg… Her mind was racing about what she’d seen, Beowulf wasn’t talking about bribes, nor was he gloating about the match, but he was legitimately trying to cheer his friend up! In fact, the only one who was mad about losing money was Peacock… Had she really played herself like this? Was Beowulf not the chump that she thought he was? It was still too early to tell, but signs pointed to yes, and so did what she heard next.

“J-Just because you paid my hospital bill doesn’t mean this is over, Wulf! Andy will come back stronger and kick your ass, just you wait, you sack of meat!” Chirped Peacock’s nasally voice.

“Forgive her, Wulf… She’s kinda…” Andy sighed.

Beowulf simply laughed, “No hard feelings at all--hell, I know when someone’s hiding their true colors! I’m a wrestler after all.”

After a beat of silence, “What did you just say about me, punk?” Peacock had a hint of unbridled anger in her voice.

“Welp, I’ll see you… On Friday, right, Andy?” Beowulf chuckled.

“Course. You can count on it! Take care, Wulf, and thanks for what you’ve done… Seriously, I owe you big time.” Andy said with sincerity.

“You don’t owe me jack, old buddy! If anything you made it up for me by doing your best in that fight. Take care, Andy, Peacock!” Beowulf said proudly.

“I swear to god, I will--!!!” Peacock’s voice became muffled as she was (presumably) dragged away by Andy.

...Did she hear that right? Not only, did Beowulf just win a match against Andy Anvil, but he paid for Peacock’s hospital bill? Peacock… who was as violent, angry, and annoying as Vitale Medici; Beowulf paid for her recovery? Nadia would’ve just left the little gremlin to die in the street. But goddamn Beowulf took the highest road available? Her brain nearly burst out of her skull, and she shook her head vigorously as if to understand anything better. She’d really, really gotten this one way off… Beowulf wasn’t nearly the Medici-pawn-stereotype she built-up in her head… But she wouldn’t let her guard down yet, she had to see if Beowulf was the real deal. She had to--

\--narrowly avoid getting smacked in the face by the door. Nadia murmured internally to herself about training with that clock pendulum that rainy day had paid off in spades. That door was definitely trimming with the power of a thousand suns… If she hadn’t dodged it, she’d most likely have a broken nose. Another factoid that lambasted her original impression of Beowulf; that strength wasn’t fake either. He would’ve taken the door off its hinges if he hadn’t the restraint. It didn’t rebound quickly either, it slowly put itself back into place with a triumphant click. The lights turn on, and she sees Beowulf place down his chair and look at himself in a nearby mirror. He sits down and takes off his shirt slowly; his back is facing Nadia.

Taking the opportunity, the beastkin invoked her familiar approach to stealth. Deliberately, she prowled closer to the wrestler and came within inches of him. She wasn’t sure how to get his attention in the most polite way. Speaking probably would’ve meant that she’d get security called on her or being told to leave. Therefore, Nadia resorted to the next best thing, which was to tap Beowulf on the shoulder. She reached out slightly and did a two-tapping motion on his--admittedly--ripped backside. While touching, Nadia thought of what she’d ask him first, maybe he’d expect the types of questions? They came from fans after all. Beowulf would expect it, but Nadia wouldn’t expect what Beowulf did in response to being tapped on the shoulder.

With speed that was too impeccable to be faked, Beowulf pulled off a devastating turn punch that slugged Nadia right in the face. Her head bounced off her neck and onto the floor. It spun around until it reached the door. Nadia used the integrity of the door as a ricochet and bounced herself back towards her body. She hears Beowulf stammer out a ‘sorry’ as he sizes her up. She’s about as stunned as he is… Beowulf was real. His strength was real, his character was real, and his personality was real! What’s next, was Nadia going to find out that the Fish Fairy was real too? Because she’d love a nice mackerel right now. Her body walks on over to her head and picks it up. Nadia screws her head back on and looks at Beowulf plainly. The wrestler is still in silence, though his lips are pursed into a mix of smiling and shock… “That was so freaking cool!” Beowulf nearly hops out of his seat.

“W-Wait, what?” Nadia is at a loss for words. Minette was the only one who thought that her being able to remove her head was cool…

“Damn right, that’s the coolest shit I’ve seen in the last ten years!” The wrestler lets out a hearty laugh, “Listen, have you ever thought of joining the NMO? We could use a gal like you, people would love to see that in the ring!”

How could someone be this sincere while also being this stupid? Honestly… Nadia found it kind of cute. “I’m flattered, but I have other matters to attend to other than the NMO. I’m here to ask you a couple questions about someone.”

“Ah, sure. Funny, Zane didn’t say anything about an interview.” Beowulf kicked up his feet onto a nearby ottoman, “But, what the heck, I don’t listen to him half the time anyway. Who are you, by the way?”

“My name is Chatte, but you can call me Cat for short.” Sick alias, Nadia, really, cat? There’s no way he’d be onto her now. Nadia sheepishly smiled.

“Chatte, huh? Say..” Beowulf cupped his chin and eyes at the beastkin from top to bottom. “You look kinda familiar…”

On the outside Nadia put on a poker face. But, on the inside she was panicking. _“He’s so onto me now, I am so screwed if he puts two and two together.”_ She smiled, and wagged her tail a bit. _“Act natural, Nadia. Act natural…”_ Beowulf stared at her with an intense force. His brown eyes looked at her face, down to her legs, to her abs, and ended with her face again. Fortune deduced that he had to be a Medici goon now. They barely showed her face in the papers--most only knew her by name--and she saw wanted posters the last time she’d gone to the River King Casino…

Nadia was preparing for the absolute worst, and put one hand behind her back. She unsheathed her claw, tensed up her body, and let out a small cough. For his part, Beowulf was still gazing at her with confusion. He was cupping his chin and making little mumbling noises--possibly trying to size her up like he had before. He is so onto her. He’s so onto her that it hurts Nadia. She’s fully prepared to kick and scream her way out of here; which is why color almost leaves her face when Beowulf waves her off and says, “No, I’ve got you mistaken for somebody else. Please, ask me all the questions you need, Ms. Chatte!” He smiles.

_“Thank you, Yu-Wan, for showing me how to keep my cool.”_ Nadia smiles back, “Of course, thank you! Anyways, I’m Chatte, I’m a martial-artist and I happen to spar with Cerebella..”

Beowulf got up while she was talking and sauntered over to a mini-fridge. Taking out a bottle of iced coffee, he pours himself a glass and turns to Nadia, “Would you like anything, Miss Chatte? Also, you spar with Cerebella? That girl’s got spunk, I tell you!”

It still baffled her, how could someone be _this_ genuine? “No thank you, I had a nice glass of red wine earlier.” She waved him off, “Anyways, I train with Cerebella on the regular, but I have a problem I’ve been running into lately. I can’t get past that thing on her head, what’s it called, Vice-Versa? Yeah. I can’t get past it, no matter what I do.”

Beowulf sat back down again; his pectorals in full display. Nadia could see the extent of the damage that had been done to him, how the hell was he still standing? Regardless, Beowulf spoke, “Heh! Good ‘ol Vice-Versa, I remember a particular bout with it. And don’t you worry, it is pretty hard to get past. Cerebella’s a tough cookie herself, but…” Beowulf took a sip of coffee, “She relies on that damn hat too much. And because living weapons only work if you’re connected to them, if you knock that thing off of her head, she’s all yours!”

Nadia was absolutely dumbfounded. It was as if someone had thrown open the gates to a treasure vault and then told Nadia to take as much as she wanted. “I see! I had no idea living weapons worked like that... Does she have anything else I need to know about? I’m looking to improve both myself and her.”

Beowulf took another sip of iced coffee and tapped his chin. He blinked and leaned in a little bit, “The kids got gusto with throws, but she’s lacking in any kind of offense outside of that. Take my bout with Andy for example--not sure if you saw it--but I was on the rope for a bit because of how fast he could hit my chest! If you’d kick up your speed a notch--you’re sure to give Cerebella a run for her money.” He accentuated that last bit with a toast of his cup.

Nadia had gone from dumbfounded to absolutely starstruck. There was no way in hell that Beowulf was a Medici informant. He wasn’t fake, he wasn’t about the money, and he’d openly give damning advice on how to beat the opponent. Was it because he openly shared his weaknesses too? Nadia thought about it for a moment. Beowulf was telling her with confidence on how to beat Cerebella, he didn’t know who she was, and he was doing it all with that same smile on his face. Beowulf could probably tell her anyone’s dark secrets if she asked. She felt the pain hit her head a bit and gnashed her teeth in response--he hit like a truck!

And that was probably it. Beowulf wasn’t stupid--at least not trying to be--he was so confident in himself, his abilities, and his knowledge that he would tell anyone who asked. There was nothing more dangerous in this world than someone who was confident in themselves--at least to the Medicis that is--and it fully convinced Nadia. The man that sat before in that chair was a bonafide badass. She’d only seen one other person like that, and it was her former ‘boss’. The beastkin gnashed at her gums some more, that punch hurt a lot. She tried to think of something to pull her attention off of the pain, but it kept rearing its ugly head…

Beowulf seemed to notice, and put up his index finger to signify Nadia to wait for a minute. He got up off of his chair and went over to a cabinet on the other side of the room. The wrestler rummaged through the various shelves, boxes, and alcoves for something. He softly hummed to himself while he did so and shook his head back and forth to the rhythm. He pulled out a medium-sized jar and sauntered over to Nadia. He unscrewed the top and stuck his hand in. When he removed it, it was coated in a clear liquid and he twiddled his fingers. “Hold still, Miss Chatte. This’ll take a second.” He gently touches the underside of Fortune’s face and then coats her right cheek in the stuff before putting his hand back.

Fortune felt a searing heat take her right side and almost double-backed in pain. But as she sat there, the heat faded, a chill overcame the side, and the pain that Nadia once had was subdued. The feeling was completely new to her. It got to the point where the coldness subsided too, and all that was left was the feeling of Nadia’s cheekbone--once as it had always been… “What was that, Beowulf?” She asked in pure astonishment, why would he do that? She snuck up on him!

“Ah, it’s a special blend or herbs my mama used to make.” He nodded, “She called it “Fergus’ Brew”, basically it’s a glorified version of icy-hot that works in reverse--but the herb mixture is better made.” He proudly folded his arms.

“A brew, huh?” Nadia was still in amazement. “Thank you.” She said with a--now genuine--smile. No one had done something like that for her in a long time.

“Don’t mention it.” Beowulf pointed a finger gun at her and set the jar down. “My hooks hurt a lot, you can ask Andy about that.”

Nadia giggled, “Did Andy get the brunt end of that chair too?”

“Sure did.” Beowulf said proudly, “A chair’s a man’s best friend. You can put one knee up on it and it’ll catch you. You can swing it and it’ll come right back. It can also be a seat for you to kick back and relax! What’s not to love?”

“I think I ‘seat’ the point.” Nadia smirked, Beowulf was kind of a dork. “A feline like myself could use a good chair to sit in. The one back at home’s a bit tacky.”

Beowulf smiled, “A classy girl like yourself could use a good chair. Where do you live anyway? Around here in New Meridian or further out?”

Was he flirting with her? She’d never been called classy before, but Nadia wouldn’t let her guard down for anything. “A little bit past the east side, under an enclave. It’s kinda gloomy and wet there at times.”

“That’s a shame…” Beowulf shook his head, “No kitty should be out in the rain, much less have to take an unwanted bath!”

“Speak for yourself.” Nadia teased, “You smell like you haven’t bathed in weeks!”

Beowulf flexed a muscle, “That’s just my natural musk. The scent of a proud wolf who just went through the fight of his life!”

“More like an overeager puppy who just got his first bone.” Nadia playfully waved.

“I guess you could say I’m a bit of a mangy-mutt.” Beowulf scratched his head, “But, when I’m in the presence of a fine kitten like yourself, I gotta show off!”

Fine!? He called her fine!? Nadia was in a daze… This dorky, yet genuine, well-mannered, and strong man was flirting with her.... But she kind of liked it, more than kind of, she was eating it up. “Well… Gee… I’ve never been called ‘fine’ before. I didn’t know the great Beowulf was a sweet talker.” She had him now, there was no way he couldn’t bluff out of this one--

“Well, you’re the first woman I’ve seen in forever that not only is down to earth with me, but has the stones to mock me a bit, you know?” Beowulf smiled, “I may be a dog, but this dog loves to bite and be bitten back!”

Nadia blushed. Oh god. He was really hitting on her, and the worst part was that she was doing it to him as well… But she wouldn’t lie to herself and say it was bad. Though she had Yu-Wan, Minette, and Irvin; Nadia still felt incredibly lonely. The guilt that ate away at her for the death of her family--the Fishbone Gang--and while Minette and Yu-Wan were good to her, she had to face the fact: they were missing something important, and that was passion. They saw her as a sister--or a daughter, in Yu-Wan’s case--and as a family member. Both would make sure that Nadia was fed, had a place to stay, and would always make sure that she knew she was valued as a person.

But that was the thing, Nadia wanted love… She wanted to love herself, she wanted to be loved not as a sister or a daughter, but as a true companion. Hell, Peacock had said it once to her: _“Buddies, thicker than water!”_ It was more than just platonic love--it was the type of love that set someone’s heart ablaze. Of course, Nadia knew that she was getting ahead of herself and that she needed to take this slower; however, she’d seen that flash of a true companion in Beowulf. He was genuine, a bit quirky, brave, strong, and wasn’t afraid to tell her how he felt. The wrestler that sat in front of her exemplified it better than well. He was not the polar opposite of Nadia, but not too samey to the point where it felt like she was talking into a mirror.

Beowulf was by all intents and purposes someone who reminded Nadia of, well, herself! But, instead of reimbursing everything that Nadia already believed or didn’t believe to be about herself; Beowulf would bring new things to the table, do things in an unorthodox manner, and throw curveballs at her--he’d already done it about three times this evening. And for each ball, Nadia had found herself stunned to silence. While she still wasn’t sure about Beowulf entirely, she was sure about one thing: Beowulf had turned everything that Nadia had previously about him on it’s head--or, pile-drived it if she wanted to use a wrestling metaphor. The man she knew as Beowulf… he had the makings of a true companion; he was showing her the affection she needed. “You still in there, Miss Chatte? I hope I didn’t send you swinging!” Beowulf said with a grin.

“I… I kinda admit, I did go swinging a bit.” Nadia said sheepishly.

“Well, I hope I didn’t send you anywhere you didn’t want to be…” Beowulf scratched the side of his head.

How is it possible, how is it possible to be _this sincere!?_ Nadia moved some of her bangs out of her face, “No, not at all. I’m fine! Anyways, thank you for telling me more about my sparring partner.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all! Say…” Beowulf paused for a moment, then asked, “We’ve been talking for a bit, would you like to go grab a bite to eat? I know this great local joint across the Ahad Bridge and I’d like to show you it.”

Asking her out… What was Beowulf’s confidence? Could Nadia have it in meal form? Though, reluctantly--as good as a cheeseburger sounded right now--she had to decline. There was still too much she didn’t know about Beowulf, “No, I’m sorry. I have to get back home or else my folks will worry about me.”

“Always thinking of the folks! You hold onto that, Miss Chatte.” Beowulf beamed and took another sip of his coffee, “Though, if you’d come around the NMO Arena another time, I’d be glad to take you there!”

“Really?” Nadia for the _fourth_ time had been humbled to stunned silence. “I-I’d love to, I’ll let you know when my schedule clears up.”

“I’ll look forward to it! Just give Zane your name and tell him that Beowulf said it was ok for you to come back here.” He chuckled a bit to himself and gave Nadia a thumbs-up, “I’ll be waiting!”

Her heart was rising out of her chest, “I hope you do. Ah!” Nadia pretended to look at a watch on her wrist, “I should get going… Thank you very much for your time, Beowulf. I’ll be sure to tell you how it goes with Cerebella.”

“Oh! That reminds me.” Beowulf quickly stepped over to the cabinet and grabbed out a notebook. He flipped open to a page that had a quill bookmark in it, “Cerebella’s supposed to meet me under the Meridian Foundation Bridge tomorrow afternoon for a bout. You could join us if you wanted, I promise I won’t go too rough!”

Another curveball. Nadia had been handed the golden softball you won as a raffle prize at the dugout by a star player… She would have free reign to see Cerebella’s movements from the safety of the bridge and not be pummeled. But, it’s too dangerous, at least, for now. “Sorry, Beowulf. I have plans tomorrow on the other side of town, maybe another time? Give her a good show for me!”

Beowulf shook his head, “That’s completely fine! I understand, you’re a fighter like me, so you’re bound to be busier than all get out.” He gave her the finger gun again and looked her dead in the eyes, “Just let me know when I can talk to you again, ok? Take care!”

Nadia waved as she left, hiding the beet redness of her face… had she really left that much of a mark on him!? She opens the door to the changing room and steps out. To be honest with herself, that last statement about having plans had been nothing more than a lie. Yu-Wan actually wanted her out of Little Innsmouth because of a supposed Medici investigation happening around there, plus, it was hotpot day. Rule #1 of Yu-Wan’s: You. Don’t. Get. In. The. Way. Of. Hotpot. Day. She was out on the town until nightfall most likely. She could do many things. Nadia actually had wanted to break into this mansion across the way; rumor has it that a golden hairpin was stashed in a clock there! However, her mind battled with her.

Beowulf, the only man in her life other than the Fishbone Gang that qualified as a true companion, the wrestler that was so genuine it hurted, and above all the man who’d brought her to stunned silence four separate times had asked her out. Perhaps… Perhaps she could fit watching the match into her schedule after all. She started for Beowulf’s dressing room when she heard the unmistakable drawl of the security guard behind her. “Hey! Who are you?” That was her cue to get the hell out. Nadia simply waved to the security guard and lunged at a nearby pipe on the wall.

With great dexterity, she rebounded off the pipe and into another hallway. On all fours, she ran like hell. Security called for backup, but by the time they had, Nadia was already out the door and into the bustling night of New Meridian. Her heart was still beating as fast as it had during the last moments of her conversation. She wasn’t getting the adrenaline from running, either. _“Beowulf… Don’t worry, I’ll be talking to you soon. Sooner than you think...”_ With that final thought, Nadia found her jacket and silk hat. Like a chameleon changing its scales, Nadia blended in with the night crowd, out of sight, but not out of mind. The only thing on her mind was Beowulf.

***

She’d come to the Meridian Foundation Bridge at sometime around two. It turns out that the Medici hadn’t at all come to Little Innsmouth as Yu-Wan had thought. A certain nurse with a penchant for scalpels and ninjutsu had caught their attention elsewhere. However, she still didn’t want to get in the way of her adoptive father’s famed hot pot day. Instead, Nadia had come to the bridge that Beowulf said he and Cerebella were to spar at. She wasn’t in her trenchcoat this time, and was walking along the metal planes with a confident stride. Though she wouldn’t say it aloud, it was Beowulf who had given her the confidence to come out here in the first place…

Lots of bygoers walked across the bridge; it had a little bit of everything for everyone in terms of variety. Though, Nadia wasn’t stupid. It would be quite dangerous to show herself out in public for too long, much less draw the eyes of Cerebella. Therefore, to watch Beowulf’s bout with Cerebella, Nadia would try the same thing that she had done yesterday. With a sly smirk, she got down on all fours and ran for the bridge’s edge. Some of the passersby stopped and shouted at her to not do anything--but Nadia didn’t listen. With the grace of a flapping hummingbird, she vaulted off of the bridge, and heard the terrified screams of onlookers behind.

Nadia quickly caught herself onto one of the steel bars below with her tail blade and hoisted herself up onto it. She could hear the concerned people up above asking about her whereabouts, why she did it, and how did she vanish into thin-air? She chuckled to herself, even without the Life Gem within her, that was still one of the easiest tricks to pull off. The beastkin crawled across another bar and found a nice little seat nestled in between a support beam. She lay there, looking down at the road below. It wasn’t a sunny day--dreary, cloudy, and cool--but sometimes Nadia liked days like this. It was the perfect time to find a spot to crawl up in and nap.

But she couldn’t nap right now, not when she heard a familiar tune being hummed not far away from her… She saw the six foot beast of a man, Beowulf, walking down the left side of the street. He had his chair on his back and was dressed in a casual sweater. It was cashmere by the look of it, with a red striped wolf pattern, and long sleeves. The wrestler walked with a spring in his step--Nadia was sure he’d break out into dance if he felt like it--and approached near where the bridge’s underside started. Once he reached where the shadows of the support beams could be seen, Beowulf set his chair down and sat. The truck-built man pulled out a thermos from the back of his pants and poured himself a glass of coffee while he waited patiently.

 _“He can pull off the stay-at-home dad look too... “_ Nadia wasn’t driven to silence this time--because she was already not talking--but was still amazed, Beowulf was this powerful. She was less impressed when she heard the sound of heeled boots clacking to her right. Nadia had to restrain herself from hissing when the open-topped, mint-haired, muscly, and tan skinned woman came into view. Cerebella was in her regular uniform, the same black diamond patterned boots, the orange low-cut mini dress with silken white sleeves, and atop her head sat the living weapon; Vice-Versa. The hat’s expression was of a chipper sort, Nadia could see its beady little eyes blink sometimes. Cerebella waved to Beowulf who gave her a toast. “Beowulf! There you are… thought you’d be up above?” She asked chipperly.

“Not so.” Said, Beowulf, taking another sip of coffee. “What, did you plan to use the people up there as makeshift balls to throw at me?”

“Har Har.” Cerebella quipped in a mocking tone, “I’ll have you know those are trained professionals and I only do that for the final act.”

“I don’t know…” Beowulf pointed an accusatory, but playful finger, “After our last bout you’d seemed up to try anything if it meant you getting an upper-hand on me!”

“Pfft, why would I need to get an upper-hand when I have four?” Cerebella flexed with Vice-Versa, which made Nadia almost want to groan.

“An extra set of arms is a nice advantage. But rely on them too much and it’ll leave you a sitting duck.” Beowulf got out of his chair and kicked it up in one motion. “Not like Hurting here…”

“You’re so old!” Cerebella giggled, “Using that same old chair again and again…” The circus performer raised a finger, “But, get this, old man! I’ve been doing some training, and I’ve got a few new aces to add to my pile of diamonds. A secret, hidden weapon that’ll leave you breathless!”

“You do now, huh?” Beowulf raised his eyebrows, squinted, and a small smirk spread across his face. “Don’t suppose you’re going to pull out a shotgun?”

“Please…” The woman laughed a bit with a hand to her mouth, “Guns are for squares! As for me, I prefer things more with a hands on approach, can you dig it?”

“I can dig it alright.” Beowulf cracked his knuckles, “I could dig it if you got to the freaking point. I don’t have all day, Bella, why don’t you show me what you got?”

“Oh I will.” Cerebella took her trademark stance, “I’m gonna lay you out~!” She said playfully.

“Alrighty…” Beowulf limbered up, “Bring it on then!”

Nadia watched the two fighters lunge at each other. Beowulf with a right hook, Cerebella with a left. Both fists clashed and they both stepped back a bit. Cerebella did an underhanded swipe, which Beowulf jumped over and followed up with an axe kick. Vice-Versa blocked it, and threw the wrestler off of Cerebella. Beowulf--with an air defying backflip--landed on his feet; he gave Cerebella a playful shrug and dashed forward. Vice-Versa reeled it’s fist back, “Lock’n’load!” Cerebella cheered, and a gigantic flaming fist hurled forward towards a running Beowulf. The wrestler ducked underneath it and jumped forward with a drop kick. It hit Cerebella square in the face and she doubled back in pain. Beowulf took his chair off of his back and kicked it across the ground toward the stunned wrestler. With a triumphant _*CLANK!*_ it unfolded mid flight and knocked Cerebella down.

Nadia found herself getting excited… She’d never seen Beowulf in action before--minus that one move from last night--and there was nothing better than seeing Cerebella get what she deserved! The fight continued, Beowulf rushing ahead as strong as he ever was. Cerebella kicked upwards with a high-heel, and a blade unfurled itself. Nadia gasped in appalled shock as the blade scratched Beowulf’s cheek slightly. Using the opportunity, Vice-Versa grabbed Beowulf by the torso and slammed him down to the ground with Cerebella in one fluid movement. Nadia growled… _“That little! That’s like bringing a gun to a knife-fight!”_ Beowulf recovered quickly and wiped the blood from his cheek. “Cheeky trick you got there, just be careful about that in the ring, ok? Might be illegal...” He quipped, as if the slash had done nothing to him.

Nadia almost laughed, was he really treating Cerebella like a kid? She seemed to play along with it, giggling as she spun Vice around on her head. The living weapon expanded its arms while spinning around which created a deadly vortex. Beowulf almost got caught in it, but rolled out of the way and picked up his chair. Quickly wheeling around like a spinning top, Beowulf swept the chair in an arcing motion. His blow was true, and Cerebella was knocked into the air. She tried to retaliate by having Vice spread its arms like a bird and shuttle down towards Beowulf with her blades out--but the wrestler seemed to expect that. Beowulf jumped above--using Vice as a footstool and grabbed Cerebella from the back. Using improbable weight, Beowulf lanced himself onto the pavement below, planting Cerebella headfirst into the asphalt; “Grendel Killah, baby!” he proudly proclaimed.

Nadia tried to get a better vantage point to watch this move unfold, but accidentally slipped… _“Oh, these wet bars!!!”_ She cursed her luck internally while she fell from the bridge and landed near a set of cargo boxes on the right side of the bridge. She grasped her head in pain--making sure it was still on her shoulders. Nadia checked to see if anyone had seen her fall. The beastkin breathed a sigh of relief when she found out she wasn’t noticed. Taking a bit of time, she got another vantage point in no time flat. Cerebella was off the ground now…

Both she and Beowulf were standing opposite each other. The two fighters still had as much energy as they had when they’d started. Cerebella flexed a bit, Beowulf dusted off one of his shoulder blades. Both were staring at one another intently, Nadia could feel the tension rising in both of them… Cerebella took a step forward, “No more pulling punches for this girl! You’re gonna feel the full brunt of something new I’ve been working on… get ready, old man--It’ll knock your block off!” A new attack?: Here? Now? Well, Nadia did consider the fact that it was meant to be a sparring--despite Cerebella cutting Beowulf a little bit--and this was a good time to practice a new move.

She watched as Cerebella vaulted herself onto a handstand, she bent her arms and propelled herself into the air. With Vice-Versa’s arms extended, the circus acrobat dove down to the pavement and performed a frontflip--ending with her hands slamming the ground. Vice-Versa’s fists followed suit, and a gigantic shockwave was created; “The River!” she yelled with a triumphant grunt. A blast of green and orange energy rushed across the ground towards Beowulf. The wrestler cupped his chin with a clenched fist and nodded in approval. Before it reached him, he casually sidestepped it, the wave was heading straight for Nadia… Letting out a yelp of surprise, she braced herself. The boxes concealing her were blown to bits… Luckily, no shards of wood had hit her--but she was exposed to the two now.

Beowulf turned around first to survey the damage, and he double-took when he saw Nadia. “M-Miss Chatte!? What’re you doing here? I thought you had plans? That’s a nice surprise!” He smiled warmly. Cerebella’s smile turned into a scowl when she saw the beastkin rise from her hiding place… Being found had happened to Nadia before, but this was especially bad; Cerebella was here and she hadn’t had a plan for being seen… Giving herself some credit, Nadia had at least had the foresight to practice some new techniques in handling Vice-Versa with Beowulf’s help. Cerebella stared at her, and in her gaze Nadia saw that her glare could cut through her own boot blades. The beastkin was terrified, but at the same time confident; she was confident that what Beowulf had told--and shown her not moments before--her was true. Seeing Beowulf smile at her too also filled her with a bit more confidence than she’d like to say aloud… Cerebella, however, was perfectly fine with saying her thoughts aloud, “Well, well, well! You’ve made my job a lot easier by showing your face, Fortune! This time, I’ll rip that Life Gem right out of you!” Her heels clacked as she advanced towards Nadia, Vice-Versa cracked its knuckles.

Nadia… Nadia was sick of running. She was sick of giving up the ghost, just so that this woman could terrorize her again. But most of all, she hated how weak it made her feel; Nadia was _done_ being weak. “I’ll tell you right now…” She hissed, “The chances of you getting this off of me are none-to-none. I’m done being the cowardly lion--this kitty has claws, bitch!”

“Wow~!” Cerebella put her hand over her chest in a mock display of surprise, “And where did _that_ come from? You’re usually as white as a sheet… was it something in the cheeseburgers this morning?”

With intent, Nadia put her foot forward, “I told you already that’s racist! Not like you’d care, but that’s alright… In fact, I think I’ll have one after I finish wiping the floor with you!”

Cerebella was walking towards Nadia with a prideful stride, “Big words for a skanky alleycat who’s only saving grace is Vitale’s heirloom.” She craned a finger tauntingly towards Nadia, “Think you can take me? I left you with bruises the last time!”

“I’ll leave you with more than bruises, circus hooter!” Nadia growled, taking the same menacing stride, “I’m gonna turn you into a scratching post, your seven layers of makeup will never cover up the claw marks!”

“At least I know how to look good~” Cerebella smirked. “Not that makeup would do you any favors!”

“The only reason you doll yourself up like that is so that you can go home to that…” Nadia growled, she wouldn’t dare utter Vitale’s name; the bastard who took her gang--her _family--_ from her! Cerebella would take it in blood!

“L-Ladies…” Beowulf cut in, putting out his hands in a d’etant type of way, “I’m absolutely clueless, can we just take a minute to--”

“No!” Both women yelled in unison, there was no cooling hostilities here.

A brief standoff period happened where the two women stared at each other for about a minute. Nadia hissed, Cerebella twirled Vice-Versa on her left finger, Nadia flexed her right claw, Cerebella clacked a heel to another, and Beowulf backed away slowly… Nadia could tell he knew this was a grudge match of some sort.

~ *** ~

A stunning turn of events; this was an understatement. Not only had Miss Chatte come to watch him and Cerebella fight without him knowing, but she also had beef with Cerebella. Was her name even Chatte? Beowulf was starting to doubt that fact… Despite that, he wouldn’t lie to himself and say that last night wasn’t a life changer. There was something about Chatte that caught his fancy. She wasn’t afraid to speak with him openly--hell, she even took a couple playful jabs at him! No one had done that since he was an up and coming minor-circuit wrestler. He found few that could match him in terms of wit, but Chatte seemed to ante up all the chips in the pile…

It wasn’t only in the way that she talked, but it was how she acted. She’d gone past security, without a pass, possibly putting her life at risk, just to talk with Beowulf about a bit of the struggles she had with Cerebella. She also was exactly the type of woman that Beowulf fancied, strong, with a calm demeanor, and she could remove her head--how cool was that!? Not to mention the fact that she was bent on improving herself! Most fighters he’d seen in both the minor and the major circuits usually had one to two gimmicks; that was it. Chatte, however, struck him as someone who didn’t rely on gimmicks--she relied on herself; and that was amazing to see. Even now, she’d wanted to stop running and try to fight--that’s such good growth for a fighter! He could clearly tell at this point that the two had serious beef and that her tale of ‘training partners’ couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Still, Beowulf decided that like his grudge matches in the NMO, this was a personal bout. Though, he was excited to see what Chatte had brought to the tables in learning from him. He set down the Hurting and sat calmly while the two women circled one another. That was another thing that got Beowulf’s attention… What was Cerebella on about? What was the Life Gem? Chatte had it inside her too, but how? There were many questions that Beowulf needed answered, but there wasn’t going to be any answers until this battle started. And Beowulf could sense the tension building…

It boiled over… Cerebella took the first swing with Vice-Versa, a lancing punch. Chatte backflipped and swiped with her tail which hardened into a blade. Vice swung it’s hand in pain… Chatte followed up with a jumping knee. It hit Cerebella in the face, Chatte then performed a front-flip scratching claw kick, and the circus performer was knocked to the floor. The beastkin tried to go for a stomp, but Cerebella managed to regain herself and had Vice-Versa do a volleyball style swing double punch. Chatte was knocked into the air, Cerebella jumped forward and unsheathed one of her leg blades.

That was when the unthinkable happened; Chatte dodged the blade by stretching her torso and legs to be thin! It was thin enough to where the blade slightly grazed her--her tendons were on display! Beowulf smacked the Hurting and spit, what did he just see!? When she came halfway down from her stretch, her legs performed a giant wheel kick which Cerebella’s blade clashed against its claws… The rest of Chatte had unstretched itself. The beastkin yowled and swung a claw; this caught Cerebella by the dress. Quickly, Chatte followed up with three other quick fist blows--clearly using the advice from Beowulf--and ended it with a low kick. Beowulf was awestruck… Chatte’s style was most likely self-taught, unrefined, and rife with potential to be pragmatic! It made him want to think of some new moves right there! He found himself rooting for Chatte more than Cerebella--despite training a lot with the latter--and was on the edge of seat. What would happen next? This was awesome!

Turns out what happened next was Cerebella getting pissed off, quickly, she got to her feat and had Vice-Versa do large arm-swings. They increased in rotation, catching Chatte and beating the stuffing out of her; “Diamond Dynamooo~!” she proudly cried. She kept advancing on Chatte--letting Vice-Versa land all the hits--Beowulf gasped, this could be big..! The mint-haired girl blew a cheeky kiss and had Vice-Versa raise it’s fists in unison. She was going for a powerslam, but Beowulf already knew it wouldn’t hit Chatte; for some reason, he placed his faith in her...

And that faith wasn’t unrewarded, “Here’s a new one for you!” Chatte yelled this as she flash-stepped to the side--dodging a large powerslam in the process. Cerebella attempted to palm-slice her away, but Chatte ducked under that too and hit her in the gut with a one-inch punch. Quick strikes! Yes! This was exactly what Beowulf had told her about! _“Atta girl! Now punish!”_ Chatte did exactly that, she landed a barrage of small claws strikes to Cerebella’s gut. After which, she did a three spin-kick combo, and followed that up with a cross-armed thrust punch. Finally, she ended off her assault with a backflip somersault kick. Cerebella was knocked off her feet and propelled a bit back. She landed on her face with a loud smacking noise.

He slapped his knee… Chatte was making Cerebella look like a buffoon! And that new attack that she’d pulled off; you didn’t see acrobatics like that often! This woman… she was fighting with all her heart! Beowulf was impressed… but something else crept into his mind. The way she elegantly outplayed Cerebella, how that night she’d become flustered when Beowulf complimented her, and the way she was legitimately touched by him taking care of her wounds… it was cute, damn it! There was so much more he wanted to know about her. This woman fought with her heart, was strong, and seemingly lacking companionship--Beowulf was too. It was lonely at the top. Sure, he had Andy, he had his fellow wrestlers, and he even had a fanclub… But what he was missing was not friendship, strength, or confidence…

What Beowulf was missing was love. He had missed love ever since his mother had passed; the foray into television along with finding out the match against Grendel was fixed did not help. Though Beowulf outwardly seemed courageous, generous, and heroic; he was suffering on the inside… He’d forgotten what it truly meant to have someone who loved him, who would be behind him through everything, and likewise he would match their effort with full force. And now he saw this woman--this beautiful beastkin with a mystery name. She’d shown Beowulf a commitment unlike anything else he’d witnessed before. Chatte--or whatever her name was--had captivated him.

But soon, she’d be the one captivated… Cerebella had gotten back up. There was a flicker of mischievousness in her eyes. Chatte had no idea what was coming, and before Beowulf could yell at her to look out--Cerebella had gone for a low blow. Specifically, she’d done an underhanded technique called the ‘Cross-Heel Hold’. Unfortunately, Beowulf was seeing the dark-side of improvement too, specifically, Cerebella’s choice to do this. Using her opening, Cerebella put Chatte in a hard grip with Vice-Versa and wiped some blood off of her cheek. “Finally, caught you.” She said with a smile.

“L-Let me go right now!” Chatte squirmed and she yowled in pain.

“Nope! I’ve been waiting for this moment for a while.” Cerebella said with hands on her hips, “The Life Gem’s mine now.”

Vice-Versa squeezed harder, and Chatte let out hellish screams… Beowulf felt his heart tear a bit…

“Nothing to say back? No witty insults? I thought you had me, Fortune!” Cerebella snickered, “Welp! Time to go report back to Miss Dahlia and get this whole mess sorted out.”

“N-Nooo!” Nadia said with a raspy yowl, “Let me goooooooo!”

Slowly, the circus performer walked away with a screaming cat girl in large hands… Beowulf’s heart was torn. What in the hell was Cerebella doing!? This was supposed to be a grudge match to settle differences!? Wait… It dawned on Beowulf--the memories of rumors he’d heard ringside came flooding back to him. Supposedly, Cerebella was with the Medici Mafia--specifically, she was an enforcer who reported directly to Vitale. And she mentioned a Dahlia…

Beowulf’s blood ran cold. He knew damn well who Black Dahlia was. In his time in the minor circuit, he’d heard legends. The masked woman assassin, the impeccable killer who never left a trace, and the one true harlot of Lorenzo’s group. She was trained to make men like Beowulf fear her name… And… Vitale! That slimeball was notorious for fixing matches in the NMO. It was so bad that Beowulf had to do an investigation with the Police Commissioner. (It turned out Zane had known it too, just had never told Beowulf.) Over 7 wrestlers were found to have taken bribes and had thrown matches. Hell, Grendel had too, Vitale had him drugged, and he died for it--so did his mother! To top it all off, Vitale got away with it--he got away with making Beowulf murder an innocent giant and it’s mother.

He felt his blood boil within him… He’d known this ‘Fortune’ for all of two days, but he also knew that he wouldn’t let Cerebella hand her over to the greasy bastard and his assassin. He picked up the Hurting and marched over towards Cerebella. He saw the catgirl look at him as he reeled back the Hurting. With a mighty swing, the chair lambasted into Cerebella’s skull--it knocked Vice-Versa off her head. The fists shrunk down, and the beatskin was released. Cerebella grasped her head in pain and rolled around for a short time. She got back up, picking the living weapon off the ground, “B-Beowulf!? What the hell was that for!?” She shouted angrily.

“That Dahlia’s messing with your head, is what that’s for.” Beowulf angrily grunted, “I’m all for a grudge match, but that’s taking it too damn far, what’s wrong with you, Bell? Why are you acting like this?” He threw out a hand for emphasis.

“Stop it!” She put her hands to her hips, “This is official Medici Business! Not yours! She stole from us, and I came to get it back!”

“So it’s true then.” Beowulf folded his arms, “You’re an enforcer for the Medici Mafia. And this woman is a person of interest to them? You’re gonna take this girl back to Dahlia, and have her tear her open for some stupid gem?”

Cerebella stuttered and stepped back, “I-It’s not like that, Beowulf, she’s--”

“Then what is it then, Bell?” Beowulf took a step forward, “What are you doing, choking an innocent girl out like that with Vice-Versa?”

“B-Beowulf, I…” Cerebella looked as if she was about to cry.

“Tell me.” Beowulf outstretched his arms to make a point, “Where in your mind do you see kidnapping and killing this beautiful lady is right? What happened to your honor Cerebella? Your spirit? Did you really give it up just to follow an old man’s orders? Tell me damn it!” Beowulf clenched his fists, “Or am I going to teach you a lesson--you’ll go through me before I let you take that cat to the gallows!”

Cerebella stopped in her tracks, she looked at the catgirl, then to Beowulf, and then the sky. She seemed to struggle with her inner thoughts. The wrestler wouldn’t have blamed her, but he couldn’t excuse the fact that she was trying to kidnap someone. He took another step towards her and readied the Hurting--he really didn’t want to do this; Cerebella was a good kid, but it appeared that the Medici’s have greatly misguided her. Beowulf wasn’t afraid of sticking up for someone else; especially if it meant that he was going to save them from certain death.

He stood his ground and stared at her. That’s all he needed to do, there was no point in escalating this. Though she held the beastkin in Vice-Versa’s hands, Beowulf held the power. Though he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the shed, Beowulf did know how these types of standoffs worked. All he had to do was wait, and if things got too serious he wasn’t above throwing a few punches. Anything was better than seeing this happen to someone who had shown him legitimate compassion…

~ *** ~

Nadia was still in the vice-grip-- _”This is not the time for puns, me!”_ \--and it hurt like hell. Seeing Beowulf act like this for her however, was lessening the blows of having some of her bones mangled. No one had stood up for her like this before and it made her feel slightly better. Seeing Cerebella on the verge of tears was also a nice bonus. Speaking of, the woman in question finally let go of Nadia. The beatskin dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap. She could hear Cerebella crying… And she looked up to see her take a step back--then break into a full-on run in the opposite direction.

Nadia wasn’t finished, she would mangle her for doing this to her, “C-Come back here! We aren’t finished!” Catching her body, Nadia got up--she was _not_ about to let Cerebella walk away from this! But she didn’t have a say in the matter. Her body caught up with her first, and she yowled in pain while collapsing on her side. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her, she’d finally had Cerebella right where she wanted her, and she’d once again outplayed Nadia… Her pride was hurt, her body ached, and she started to cry as well. While laying there, helpless, scared, and bruised; she heard the sound of dress shoes clacking on the ground.

“Hey! Easy there, girl.” Beowulf knelt over her and surveyed the damage. She heard him mutter, “Damn… She really was going for the kill! What have they done to her?” Nadia felt the Life Gem healing her exterior wounds right away. She heard Beowulf gasp in surprise when they did. Nadia didn’t want to sit here and do nothing--she had to chase after Cerebella! Shakily, she rose to her feet and took a step before feeling her body give out again. She braced herself for the fall, but instead felt something warm and silky grab her back. She tilts her head up to see Beowulf looking at her with great concern. His eyes are on her directly…

She didn’t notice it before--cause they were both sitting--but Beowulf was actually pretty big. Nadia is almost two times less his size…And, the way Beowulf is holding her in his strong arms--it’s something out of a cheesy romance novel! But, Nadia secretly loves it. She purrs sheepishly as Beowulf smiles, “T-Thank you for helping me out…” Nadia manages to get out amidst purrs.

“It’s no problem at all.” Beowulf picked her up and put her on her feet, “Would you mind telling me what that was all about?”

“W-Well…” Nadia tried to come up with a lie, anything on the spot that would dissuade Beowulf.

“Don’t you lie to me now.” Beowulf cheekily held up a finger, “If the truth’s massive, then I have all the time in the world to listen to it--believe me, I do. But if it’s too much to say now, you could at least let me ask one thing.”

“Yes, what?” Nadia couldn’t stop herself from blushing...

“What’s your real name? I heard Bell mention a ‘Fortune’.” Beowulf put her arm over his back and carried her like you would a fallen comrade.

“She was half right.” Nadia chuckled, “Fortune’s my last name, my first name is Nadia. I’m Nadia Fortune…”

“Nadia… Ah, I remember. That name means ‘hope.’ It’s a very pretty name for an even prettier gal.” Beowulf smiled warmly.

Nadia was still flabbergasted at his sincerity, but openly welcomed it, “Thank you, Beowulf. I’m glad you like it. I’m sorry I had to use an alias but…”

“Nah, it’s alright.” Beowulf waved her off, “Judging by how you got into the Arena’s backrooms, your fighting style, and your collar! You were part of a group of bandits--but I can tell that you’re the sort of…” Beowulf put a finger to his mouth, “What was his name, ‘Robert Hode’? You basically always steal for selflessness, am I right?”

Nadia couldn’t believe he was this spot on, “Yep, that’s me. The cat burglar.”

“I normally don’t agree with thievery. But, doing it for a good cause has me thinking.” Beowulf looked down at her injuries, “I should take you to the Meridian hospital, I know a couple guys there that can fix you right up, how about it?”

“A-Are you crazy!?” Nadia shook her head, “The Medicis know my face, and there’s bound to be a few of them waiting there already!”

Beowulf laughed, “Leave it to those bootlickers to already be in place… Where should we go then?”

“Little Innsmouth…” Nadia caught her breath, she was still in great pain. “Yu-Wan will help us out, his restaurant isn’t too far from the pier.”

“Yu-Wan’s, huh? Never eaten there before.” Beowulf started walking with Nadia down the road, “But if that’s where you need to go, I’ll go there with you. However, I do have one condition before I take you there willy-nilly.”

“And that is?” Nadia looked up at him, Beowulf still had that dumb grin on his face. It made Nadia feel safe, warm and fuzzy. He didn’t have to do this for her, and yet he did it with such unabashed kindness… Nadia felt like she’d be in silence for the sixth time in two days.

“You have to tell me more about yourself.” Beowulf said, carrying her along, “Call me a face, but I’m very interested in the life and times of Nadia Fortune.”

Nadia purrs, but pouts, “F-Fine. But I’ve never told anyone my entire story before--so you’ll have to put up with me stumbling on a couple parts!” She flashes a cheeky smile.

Beowulf laughs again, “That’s what makes stories so great, Nadia. There’s always room for hype, and there’s always room for improvement. Take it easy, and just tell me as we go, ok? Don’t strain yourself, I’ll get you to Innsmouth in no time!”

Nadia walks along with Beowulf who is now practically carrying her along. She feels the familiar feeling of warmth envelope her and holds onto Beowulf tightly. They walk along the cloudy streets of New Meridian, en route to Little Innsmouth. Bruised, but slowly healing, Nadia feels at peace. Her feelings of anger, defeat, and shame all stop on a dime. They take a backseat to this overwhelming feeling of security. The beastkin hasn’t felt like this since the Fishbone Gang first took her in…

Though she would’ve normally felt bad for letting someone practically carry her--she didn’t mind this. The lonely catgirl felt that she could get used to this… Maybe she would ask him to pamper her in the future? Of course, Nadia still had to tell him all about herself… Would she be ready to face that? Would she be ready to bare the inner markings of all that’s happened to her? She used to feel like she couldn’t…

But something about Beowulf. Something about Beowulf made her feel like she could do anything in the world as long as he was at her side. The famous cat burglar, Nadia Fortune, feeling this way about somebody for the first time in her life… Cerebella may have taken ‘victory’ from her; but, Nadia felt like she’d won something far greater. And that something was Beowulf. She wasn’t sure how this was all going to work out… However, what Nadia was sure of was that she felt a spark in her heart… She looked at Beowulf again; he had the same smile as before, and was going at a nice pace. “Say… When we get back to Yu-Wan’s… Would you mind staying for a while?” Nadia asked weakly, blushing a bit.

“Of course I would, you still owe me a story!” Beowulf beamed, “And… I want to make sure you’re ok.”

Nadia purred loudly this time, “J-Jeez… We’ve only just met.”

“It doesn’t matter if we did!” Beowulf put on his wrestling voice for that one. “I wanna spend some time with you, Nadia.”

“You’re such a dork~” Nadia chuckled.

“Then call me that dorkiest, cause this dork’s gonna make sure you’re taken care of.” Beowulf said proudly.

“Getting the VIP treatment, huh?” Nadia giggled, “Am I a part of the Beowulf fan club now?”

“You can be, but, only if that means I’m your biggest fan, too.” Beowulf smiled.

They shared a loud laugh together, and the two walked further along towards Little Innsmouth. Nadia felt her tail quivering as the beating of her heart rung in her ears. Their footsteps echoed amidst the vesper of New Meridian's fading afternoon rush hour; the whispers of an inseparable bond formed

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading, as always, leave comments or feedback down below.
> 
> \- Mouchi


End file.
